


Trading on Names

by HeartHarps



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's Eleven (2001), Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gen, One Shot, Star Wars Legends Jargon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sargent Pall of the...Royal Naboo Security Forces, this is Danny Ocean. I was told to comm you within 24 hours.</p><p>"No sir, I haven't been getting into trouble.</p><p>"No sir, I haven't been drinking.</p><p>"No sir, I wouldn't even think about leaving the planet."</p><p>A Star Wars!Ocean's Eleven au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trading on Names

"Mos Eisley Spaceport. You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy," Rusty declared, and shoved the last piece of chokie in his mouth.

Danny tried to keep his adrenaline rush under control. "Let's do this." 

/ 

"I saw you in the hanger," Saul, a puffy toydarian, challenged as Rusty slid into the seat next to him. "Before the last call for racers was made, next to the junkyard. I was placing my bet. Yes, I saw you. I saw you before I got here. I saw you before you even got up this morning." 

Rusty took another bite of his zucca pastry and reached for the viewscreen in front of Saul. "Well," He said as he flipped through the racers, "If you can see so well, why'd you bet on Sebulba?" 

Saul looked at the racer's profile. He didn't look away. Not when Rusty dropped the screen onto his lap, and not when Rusty stood up and left. 

/ 

**TWO HOURS EARLIER**

The boy didn't give the oddly dressed, funny-smelling visitor a second glance. Either he really cared about the safe transport of power converters from Pile A to Pile B, or the Mos Espa junk dealership saw more varied traffic than Danny had guessed. 

"Hi, Linus," Danny said. 

Traffic or no, Linus didn't hear his name too often. He was alone on Tatooine, family-wise, with nothing more than a couple sets of sandblasted robes and a helmet to his name. He stopped stacking mid-lift, settled the converter on the ground, and turned. "Who are you?" 

Danny smiled, revealing, "A friend of Bobby Caldwell's." 

Linus grabbed a dirty cloth and attempted to work the oil out of his palms. "And?" 

Danny drew a line in the dust on the rusted hull next to him. "Bobby told me about you. Said you were the best podracer he ever saw." He looked up. "Didn't expect to find you making wupiupi in a junkyard." 

Linus instantly moved to the defense. He did that a lot. "I'm saving up. I'll have a pod by next year." 

"What if you could have one today?" 

Linus froze again but tried to conceal it, glancing to where his boss, Watto, was cussing out a supplier inside. 

"There's just one thing. I need you to win," Danny admitted, and when Linus' body language mimicked that of a teenager with self-confidence issues—because he was a teenager with self-confidence issues—Danny stated, "You're either in or out, right now." 

Linus picked at a loose thread in the cloth, turning it rhythmically and trying to keep his heart rate down. Today's race was just a minor one; an off-season event to keep the bets going and the money flowing. If Linus was lucky, Watto would let him off early so he could watch. But despite the small scale, Linus had never raced before, and the mere idea of being on the track of the Mos Espa Grand Arena was enough to peak Linus' interest. "What do you want?" 

Danny shrugged. "I want you to win." 

Linus leaned against Pile B, trying to figure out if he actually could. All his time logged in podracers was borrowed and easy; he'd only ever taken joyrides through the mountains. No Tusken Raiders, no opponents, and no price on his head. "And?" 

"This is a job offer, kid. You win, you come with me, you make enough to build ten racers and you're home stacking hyperdrives by the end of the month." 

Danny tried to read the kid, thinking of all his encounters with Bobby, then realized—Linus must get along better with his mother, because Danny had no idea what he was thinking. He panicked a little, as would be expected, and glanced around the yard like he figured a normal, not-panicking person would. 

But when he looked back, the kid was smiling. "All I gotta do is win?" 

/ 

_Robert "Bobby" Caldwell was the first human to race in the Boonta Eve Classic, and currently holds the record for most consecutive wins at five straight victories between 57 and 53 BBY._

_His streak was ended when his wife, Pamela, bested him and seventeen other racers in the 52 Classic. Though Bobby finished in first place the following year, many—including Bobby himself—award the victory to Pamela as she was pregnant with their child at the time and unable to race._

_Bobby and Pamela were instrumental in the Podracing Renaissance, bringing sleeker podracers and strategic flying to the Boonta Classic. Their model of podracer has been mimicked by nearly every great pilot since their time. Pamela flew with an aggressive attitude that did not translate into violence, but still yielded results. Bobby had to scrape a few other podracers to make his record happen, but overall piloted with an elegance never before found on the Boonta track._

_The Boonta Eve Classic Council commemorates their accomplishments in the Hall of Fame, as a testament to the importance of innovation and excellence, even in the world of podracing._

Linus had read it before. How many times had he read it? Probably too many. His parents hadn't even told him about it; he'd just showed up at the arena not long after he'd arrived on Tatooine and found his mom and dad in full pilot gear, hanging on the wall. They were just one of many entries in the Hall of Fame, of course, as the Boonta Classic was centuries old and praised every hotshot that kept the spotlight for longer than a millisecond. 

But still. It was nice. Linus nearly had it memorized. 

"Hey Caldwell," a voice called, and tore him away from the memorial. 

Turning, Linus found a garish-looking Naboo chewing jerked bantha and sauntering towards him. 

"Uh, hi. Linus i-is fine." 

The man stopped and smiled. "Hey Linus, I'm Rusty. Friend of Danny's." He extended a hand and Linus had to switch his helmet to his other hand but he managed to shake it. "Big day." 

"Yeah." 

"You ready?" 

Linus shrugged a little, but kept smiling. "Not really." 

Rusty chuckled. "Please; I've met your mom. Nice lady, great pilot," He remarked, and finished off the jerky. "Danny said he was ready for you in the hangar, so." 

"Oh, ok. Yeah. Yeah," Linus stammered over his words, as he so often did when it was so completely unnecessary. 

Rusty smiled again as they turned towards the stairs. "Relax, kid. You'll do fine." 

/ 

Linus assumed that all these 'instincts' he was supposed to have from being this Caldwell legacy thing meant his anxiety would disappear once he got going. 

He was wrong. 

From the moment he settled in the seat of Danny's podracer, to the second somebody pulled him out afterwards, his heart raced annoyingly quickly and his breath came hard-pressed. 

He did, however, knock two other racers off the track with minimal damage to his own pod, and managed to outwit Sebulba—current champion of the Boonta Eve Classic—in the final seconds of the race, sealing up first place. 

He figured he could work on the anxiety thing later. 

/ 

"Frank, Livingston, Saul, Reuben, Malloy, Malloy, Linus You Me. Basher on Geonosis and Yen on Ryloth. Good?" 

"Good." 

"Good," Rusty confirmed, and banged on the door to the cockpit, informing Malloy² that they were ready for take off. He took his seat and found some eopie brisket in his bag. The rest of the crew was below deck, hopefully not killing each other. 

Looking to Danny, Rusty noticed he was pensive and wouldn't meet Rusty's eye, which was rare overall but common to the beginning of a job. Rusty let him think, and tucked into the eopie heartily. Danny thinking always lead to Danny talking, so Rusty wasn't surprised when the long silence was ended by, "You think we can pull it off?" 

Rusty smiled as he swallowed the brisket. "Steal the Millennium Falcon?" 

Danny actually sighed and ran his fingers through his graying hair at the sound of it out loud. 

Rusty shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching too many old movies. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment to make my day. :)


End file.
